Ants In My Pants!

37 Weeks.

I am SO impatient and have been for quite some time.
It is not that I wanted to go into labor early, but rather wanted my due date to hurry up and get here.
My to do list is nearly complete. The only things I have left that I want to get done are out of my control. I cannot do our taxes until I have all the documents and the U.S. Department of Education sure takes their merry time. I want to get my photos printed and albums organized, but the place I want to use has not had its grand opening yet. They have only been working on the store front for about three years. Sheesh. And I definitely need my photos finished now because I am the type to put that stuff off for years. Plus, I know myself and K-. While we would never actually pull out picture albums of our baby and torture people with them, we will no doubt manage to take thousands of pictures and I would like to be caught up with the other pics before the memory card becomes monopolized.
So, I have nothing to do. Every drawer and closet is organized and reorganized. Bags are packed, clothes are washed, books are read. We have a pediatrician. My stockpile is complete.
My only preoccupation left has been trying to acclimate my cats to a new type of litter.

I am antsy, agitated, easily irritated, and uncomfortable. As of last week, I was dilated one centimeter and barely effaced. I just want the time to get here now. I need to have a live baby home with me. I need to let out a little of my pent up breath. I still cannot take anything out of its box for fear something may happen. I don't have valid receipts for most of it anyway, but I still can't open it all. I always have the idea in the back of my head that it would be easier to sell if it is still in the box. Pessimistic I know, but the thought of going through a tragedy at all, and then sitting in an apartment filled with baby stuff mocking me is horrifying.

Tick tock tick tock.....

One Little Project

"Nursery" decor!
We do not have a nursery. We have a corner of our our bedroom. Luckily it is a long bedroom, and we would have had the crib in there for quite some time even if we did have a second bedroom.

Have I mentioned K- and I both hate boy themed nursery stuff?
Boyish baby stuff has two themes to choose from: automotive/airplane and sports.
We live 10 blocks from downtown. And 30 blocks from a large international airport. There are 3.4 million people in this 10 mile radius. The last thing either of us wants to see when we enter our sanctuary of an apartment is more cars and planes.
And the sports theme really sticks in my craw. Babies don't play sports. They don't watch sports. None of the boys in my family ever played sports, although all of us girls did.
K- dislikes all televised sports.

So I went with a damask printed crib sheet and flitty little birds as baby decor. Yes, that is some pink you see. Use of color for baby gender differentiation did not come about until the 1960s. And it did not become common until the 90s. So, instead of decorating in something that made me cringe, I crafted some easy, silly wall art myself.
The only things I had to buy were the canvases. I already had the paint, fabric, and buttons sitting around.

Been A While

I have been lacking in internet time lately. Well, that's not true. I have been lacking in interactive internet time.

I spent three weeks groaning on the couch dealing with kidney stones. After the first week, when the pain left my kidney, moved down, and left, I thought I was done. I was wrong. The next one was even worse.
So I have not been on the computer much and my only internet time was spent on my cellphone. I have about 400 things in my Google Reader to get through.

The greatest thing about being in horrible pain without meds or an end in sight, is that feeling normal afterward feels fantastic.

I am also no longer nervous about childbirth. No matter how painful hard labor and giving birth can be, it does not last for three weeks. If a baby were stuck in my birth canal, and causing horrific pain and duress, they would not send me home to wait it out for a few weeks and see if everything works itself out. I find comfort in that.

Like Neverending PMS....

....minus the tampons and what ifs.

Maybe it is hormones.
Maybe it is the transition to Winter and lack of daylight.
Maybe the never ending cloud cover. Lack of funds. Too much going on. Too little going on. I don't know.

I am just so sad and lonely and don't know why. I hate not understanding it. If things were truly sucky, then I could understand. But really, life is only a little bit sucky right now. There is certainly enough good happening to balance the bad. At least in my mind.
This entire year has been bitter sweet. On paper it looks horrible. K- and I both tend to forget all the drama of 2009, mostly because it feels like it all happened a million years ago. And also because things that devastate many people, tend to roll off our backs. Especially, of course, when we have something good in the here and now to focus on.

I am not depressed, or really sad even, but I seem to be in a constant state of melancholy. Maybe this is just my normal time to be weepy and I forgot.
I am very lonely, both in real life and in my online life.
I feel as though I have lost some friends as well as part of myself. Part of my infertile self I guess. It is not like I was fond of my infertile self, but it was still ME. To have that part taken away is still disheartening. Slap a "pregnant" label on me and I am suddenly "other". An untouchable. (Or overly touchable for strangers with no boundaries, but that is another subject for another day.)
There was a certain level of camaraderie that is now gone.
Theoretically, there is another side I now belong on, but I don't know where to find it. Or more accurately, I don't know how to enter it. I am unfamiliar with the language they speak there.

We were at another wedding recently. Once again, I sat alone in the corner watching everyone drinking and dancing. I have always been a bit of a wallflower, however, it seemed more significant this time. My tolerance for obnoxious people has gotten lower.
I took part in an awkward conversation with the bride's grandmother. My own grandmother pointed to my mother and said she was going to be a grandma. The bride's grandma looks at me and says "Yes, I heard about that. Let's hope it doesn't die."
I just sat there sort of speechless for a moment.
"Um...yeah...hopefully."
She then launched into a story about miscarriages and subsequent pregnancies. I eventually excused myself to the restroom. Despite it being strange, I sort of appreciated her blunt recognition that bad things not only happen, but frequently and often times to good people.

***
I am almost there. Twelve more weeks. The homestretch. I am getting close to the grand prize. That thing I longed for, for so long, is becoming a reality. I have a lot to do before it happens, but I am not too worried.
And because of this, I cannot for the life of me, figure out my problem. I am excited, yet gloomy.
I hope it is something that can be chalked up to hormones and a lack of exercise.
I imagine some fresh air and sunshine would help. Some walking. Unfortunately most simple tasks have me doubled over with crampy Braxton Hicks and a strange leakage I would prefer not to discuss. Having to spend your time sitting and lying around, when you're already weepy is difficult. I generally love this time of year, but I find myself wishing I could fast-forward to late January.

I want to meet this person who has so much control over my body and emotions.

A Little Bit Funny, a Little Bit Weird

K- has a favorite rant as of late. It all revolves around a small, yet significant phrase adamantly and repeatedly uttered by his apparently shell shocked acquaintances.

"Everything is going to change.....".

They tell him this with forbearance and a touch of fear in their voices.

These are the poor, ignorant fools who stepped into fatherhood with their heads up their proverbial asses. They assumed when the baby came, they would continue drinking and carousing whenever they wanted. They assumed babysitters were easy to come by and that you would actually leave a two week old newborn with them. They assumed newborns slept through the night. They assumed a piercing wail was easily soothed. They assumed their wives would need no "help". They assumed vomit stains washed out of white fabric. They assumed their hours of PlayStation time would not be compromised. They assumed everything would be 10 times easier once the kid could walk, talk, reason, etc. They assumed there would be no change in the dynamic of their marriages. They assumed their household would be the same. They assumed they would know all the answers.

It seems, they had too many assumptions.

They also seem to forget that K- and I were married long before they even met their respective wives, got married, bought homes and fathered three children. They forget our age. They forget our infertility.

"Everything is going to change....".

Every other week or so, K- comes through the front door and mutters those words with a gleam in his eye. And then follows with a bellowed "Duh!". Or the more favored "No SHIT!!".

And then begins his tirade:

"Of course it is going to change! It's a baby! We are adding a whole additional person to our marriage and our household! Someone who is needy and completely dependent on us for EVERYTHING. Someone we are solely responsible for!
Did these dumb asses actually think their lives wouldn't change? Do they think I am an idiot? Are they freaking serious?".

To which I will calmly reply, that from what I know of these men, no they did not realize how it would impact their lives. And they see this repeated statement as a heads up to their brethren. A heads up they see as necessary because they were so flabbergasted at their own inaccuracy when deciphering the reality of parenthood. The same way they were shocked by the reality of marriage. And the reality of life in general.

K- tends to hang out with guys from a very different background than his own. Or mine. I think our detachment from these people is a common theme for people who jump "classes" like we did. Aside from the socioeconomic background, there is also a culture gap that he easily forgets. Either way, his incredulousness over the comments made by his friends and colleagues is very amusing.

***
In the same category, though less amusing, are the similar comments made by my mother. Except when she blathers on about things I may or may not have to give up, she cackles with glee. I can mentally see her rubbing her hands together in vindication, a la the evil villain.
The funny/annoying thing about my mother lecturing me on going from the non-parent life to the parent life, is she has no experience with this transition. She gave birth to me while still in High school. She has never experienced adult life without kids. She had two children and was divorced from my drug addict biological father by the age of 21. She then married another idiot and decided to have two more kids 20 years after the first round. She has no idea what it is like to have a "carefree" existence and has not done a great job of hiding her envy over my life. Knowing your own mother is jealous and resents you a tiny bit, is an uneasy feeling.
And it bothers me that my ability to make good choices and decisions, and therefore live in the positive aftermath of those choices, bugs her so much.

Despite being infertile and dealing with that separate pain, K- and I have had a very good life. We made smart decisions and get to reap the rewards. Any good luck that came our way, was after a lot of planning, and doing what we could to influence our path in the right direction.
So in the eyes of parents and people more strapped down, we likely come off looking like spoiled party animals.

And so, with accusatory gaze, my mother subtly punishes me for the life she never had. Even for my personal miseries she never had.
This is all very under the surface and I don't think most people would even notice all this going on unless they knew us very, very well.
It feels bizarre because up until the last couple years, my mom pretty much had nothing to do with me. She was the opposite of a helicopter parent I guess. Now, however, we see each other quite a bit and there is an odd vibe between us.

**************

On a different note, I had my one hour glucose tolerance test yesterday.
They wanted to see my level under 140 and mine was 80, so I passed with flying colors.
I am still on Metformin and I try to do the proper food combining so I am not too surprised.
My regular doctor appointment was canceled because yet again, someone needed to give birth during my scheduled time. It has become a running joke at the clinic now because this is the fourth time this has happened to me.
K- and I are less amused since we share one car and he basically has to take a half day for each appointment since he works in the opposite direction and it would not work out for me to drop him off and pick him up so I could use the car.
He doesn't get worked up about it though. K- has not only gotten better at going with the flow, he has also become nicer overall lately. Perhaps he hopes if he acts nice, it will rub off on me, since I am usually just a grump.